Long Lost Brothers
by Shruikin
Summary: Victor Creed has been living the quiet, totally normal life for 30 years now. But when a certian Stryker is shown on the news, Victor feels like it's up to him to stop the man. Even if it means contacting an old brother for help. Spoilers! After X-men 1
1. Chapter 1

_SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS_

_Now I know Sabertooth was in the first X-men, but just for the story's sake lets pretend he wasn't :D_

_-------_

_I thought you were the Moon and I was your Wolverine. Turns out you're the Trickster, and I'm just the fool who got played._

Now, Victor Creed isn't a man up for that kind of corny crap, hell he didn't even know Jimmy-boy had that kind of thought process. But still, seeing his brother there, almost crying, just looking so… Victor couldn't even come up with the word. He'd go with pathetic, but something in his gut told him that that wasn't right. _Hopeless_, ah there's the word.

It just didn't settle right in his stomach to see his little brother looking so lost, so worn out that he pretty much just threw in the towel. After seeing the man fight in every freakin' war America had to offer, seeing him break down over this was…ah hell he'd say it: _heartbreaking_. Not that he'd ever repeat that.

It took him a second to realize that his weird stomach feeling was, indeed, his older-brother protective instincts kicking in. And he came to a conclusion: No one, and I mean _no one_ gets to hurt Jimmy like that unless it's Victor Creed doing the hurting.

Victor Creed made sure of that.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You'd be amazed at how much an extra 30 years can do to an already 120 year old mutant. Victor Creed certainly was amazed.

The 150 year old mutant groaned as he rolled out of his sad excuse for a bed. After stretching and doing a yawn that'd make a lion piss himself, Creed lumbered into his tiny bathroom. When he was done with his business and was washing his hands, he met his gaze in the mirror again, like he did everyday.

If you took a picture of Creed from 30 years ago and one from today, you'd honestly hardly find any difference. Well maybe if you were an average Joe. But if you were one of those people who _really_ looked 'beyond' the picture, you'd see some pretty freakish differences.

An idiot would pick out that he didn't have his weird, 1880's half-beard anymore (Creed finally decided that that style was just a little too old, so he stuck with the beard stubble). But if you were the emotional person style, you'd see the tired, worn out look Creed has now. The look of a man who was defeated.

Those 30 years certainly took a toll on him. After seeing his little brother go back to his old lover, even after she betrayed him. Seeing him free all of those mutants. Seeing him fight that douche-bag Wade to the death. Well, it made Jimmy look more like a man that Victor did. And Victor didn't like being on-upped by his brother.

Creed was surprised how after that day, killing didn't give him the usual thrill it did. How his conscious was very slowly leaking back into his mind (he honestly thought he lost his mind when he felt that killing a rabbit was just too cruel). It gave him a lot of time to reflect, and reflect on things he'd really rather not reflect about.

All the deaths. All the families he destroyed. All the mutants he betrayed. He _finally_ understood why Jimmy-boy threw such a hissy fit on their missions. He didn't want to be that kind of person anymore. He didn't want to be anything of the sort. He just wanted to be Victor Creed, just a person.

Creed splashed some water onto his face and stumbled over to his kitchen. The nice thing about living in a crappy old trailer is that you have all your basic necessities right next to each other. The crappy thing about living in a crappy old trailer is that it's very cramped (I mean, he's big enough as it is).

Opening his fridge and sadly only finding less-than-half a gallon of spoiled milk and something else he'd really rather not know, he closed his door.

"Ughn…" Creed groaned, rubbing his eyes. _I guess I could go to work._ He thought. Work meant coffee, and coffee meant there'd be a least a muffin or something he could snatch.

Throwing on a pair of worn jeans, a faded t-shirt, and his denim work jacket with a big HAROLD'S AUTO-MECHANICS printed on the back, Creed made his way out the door and into his 1991 Chevy truck.

If there's one thing Victor loves about living on the Oregon coast, is how accepting people are. Everyone at his job knows he's a mutant. His claws were one thing, no matter how much he tried to file them down they still grew back. And his fangs were a big give-away. Despite the disturbing features, Creed's boss, Harold, knew the man wouldn't try anything stupid.

Victor leaned back in his car seat while he shifted gears absentmindedly as he drove to his job. Harold, Victor snorted. That man was either freakishly oblivious, or just plain crazy. When Creed arrived in Oregon, dead broke and pretty much stumbling around in what Harold could assume rags, he gave the mutant a job without another word. Even if Creed had little to none experience with fixing cars. Due to that, Creed had nothing but respect for the old geezer.

Pulling into his usual parking spot next to Harold's Auto Mechanics, Victor cut the engine and climbed out. It was a perfectly sunny day, with the green spruce trees contrasting nicely with the intensely blue sky. It was around 7 A.M, so the sun was just peeking over the mountains.

_Perfect_. Victor smiled.

Opening the door to Harold's Mechanics, he was not surprised to see the lobby room completely empty. His stomach growled viciously, so he scuttled quickly to the break room.

There sat Harold Jr., or Junior as Creed calls him. Harold's son of 17 years, the boy was destined to take over to shop one day. He was currently lounging in an uncomfortable plastic chair, coffee in one hand and a TV remote in the other, watching some television.

"Mornin' Junior." Creed mumbled absentmindedly as he pouring himself some sweet, sweet, glorious coffee.

"Heya Creed." Junior smiled, stretching his arms. Creed glanced around the counter.

"Got any food?" The mutant asked.

"Wha? Oh! Yeah, my mom made some cornbread muffins." The lanky boy pointed towards a Zip-lock bag full of the yellow muffins.

Creed snatched one faster that humanly possible, and crammed the poor food into his mouth. He could've moaned at how freakin' good it tasted.

"Not gunna lie, kid," Creed said through a mouth full of cornbread, "your mom make's damn good cornbread."

Junior's lips pulled back into a smile. "I know! Great, isn't it?"

Victor nodded and plopped into the chair next to the boy. He trained his eyes onto the old TV screen. He was surprised to see the news was on.

"News? Really, Junior? Shouldn't you be watching something like that crap show Family Guy?" Creed asked, swallowing his muffin and grabbing a fifth.

Junior quirked a smile. "It's not on this early, and I heard that there was this huge battle in New York. Apparently there's this mutant 'Magneto' or somethin' dorky like that. Did somethin' HUGE at the Statue of Liberty. Captured this gal, it's a huge mess. The girl's okay, though…" Junior trailed off, glancing back at the screen. "Anyways, I wanna see if they say anythin' about it on here."

Creed gave a blasé nod, but deep down something churned in his stomach. Mutant activity was on the rise, and it irked him how discriminating the government was being.

"_Well luckily for us, I found ol' 'Magneto' and got 'im locked up in a plastic cell. Ain't nothin' he can do now to escape." _The man on the TV explained.

Creed's nails dug through his tenth muffin so fast that it punctured his palm. That voice. That freakishly, horribly, familiar voice. That stupid, freakishly, horribly familiar voice with a Southern twang. Junior's eyebrows shot up.

"Whoa, Vic, you okay?" He asked, sitting up.

"The bastard's back!" Creed snarled, and I really mean snarled. Junior scrambled out of his seat and was now standing.

"Vic, uh…dude, I can leave…" The boy mumbled, terrified.

"No!…I mean. No, you don't have to leave. I've just uh… had some bad experiences with that guy." Creed pointed a clawed finger towards the man still jabbering away.

"Oh…" Junior paused, then gave an understand nod. "William Stryker? I guess he's a real mutant hater. Was he an ass to you or something?" The boy asked. Victor couldn't help but smile. It amazed him how Junior was able to completely accept his mutation.

"Ah, well, he was way more than an ass to me. He actually made me and my brother-" Annnnd that's when it the wave of memories smacked him so bad, that if it wasn't a metaphorical wave, he probably would've died. Metaphorically speaking.

James Logan. Jimmy Logan. Jimmy boy. Wolverine. His _brother_. Man, it had been a while since Creed thought of those times with his brother. Hell, it's been a while since he even thought of his brother _now_, like, what exactly his brother was up too. It seemed as if the two lived on totally different worlds.

30 years ago, when Victor did indeed made sure that no one hurt his little brother other than himself, that was honestly the last he saw of him. After flat out base-jumping off of the tower on that dreadful island, he vowed to never get involved in the man's life ever again. He left not seconds after he jumped, deciding it was probably better to get out of there sooner rather than later. He felt like he caused enough damage in Jimmy's life. His solution? Move across the freakin' country and lay low.

So far it's been working.

But seeing William Stryker's disgusting face on the television screen, it could honestly make Creed gag. Why was this old man back? Did he want to create more experiments again? Was he looking for Jimmy again?

Creed lurched forward in his seat so fast that it made his chair fly across the room. Junior actually whimpered.

"Oh he best not be getting' _near_ Jimmy." Victor seethed.

"_Now uh, I 'pose I _should_ thank a small group of mutants that did make an effort to stop Magneto from pretty much destroyin' the human race. I think you, anonymous mutants." _Stryker reluctantly grumbled. Victor growled.

Junior started to shuffle towards the door. "I uh…yeah. Work's a callin'! Eheheh…heh….yeah." And with that, Junior flew out of the door with speed that actually made Victor proud.

Victor sadly glanced back at the screen. With Stryker's old, saggy face staring back at him, the old mutant could see something boiling under the mutant-killer's surface.

"_An' I'm definitely makin' sure this kinda situation won't happen again. Ever. Again." _Stryker concluded.

Victor felt the pit in his stomach churn so badly he actually did gag. Stryker was at it again. He was going to do something bad. Something very bad.

Creed certainly wasn't going to let that happen. He had to do something, and something quick. Had to warn someone.

_Jimmy._

Victor halted in his spot. Jimmy. He'd warn Jimmy. Jimmy'd know what to do.

And with that, he grabbed his car keys, another cornbread muffin, and flew out the door, oblivious to Junior's confused yet terrified look.

He'd have to find Jimmy first.


	2. Chapter 2

_I wanted to thank everyone for their wonderful reviews! It seriously makes my day! :D Here's chapter two! Hope you'll enjoy!_

xxxxxxxxxxx

Doing 80 down a 30 mph road was not one of Victor's concerns right now. Right now, his mind was on where _exactly_ he'd find his brother.

See, after making his huge, epiphany moment of sprinting out towards his car, jumping in, and feelin' pumped and excited for finally going to find his brother, and flooring his car so bad that gravel spewed everywhere, it never really occurred to him where to start finding his brother.

It really had the mutant suck in a rut. He honestly couldn't remember anyone who would know where the guy was. Everyone who did know him is probably countries away…. _or dead._ Creed thought with distaste. Times like these were when he really regretted killing everyone connected to Jimmy.

Creed snorted angrily as he drove up next to his piece-of-crap trailer and sprinted inside. Grabbing a backpack he didn't even know he owned, he started jamming random clothes in. Just as he was about to cram some boxers in the bag, loud knocking could be heard from his trailer door.

If Creed was not in an adrenaline pumped mood, and not half-crazed at the moment, he might've taken his time analyze who was at the door. The knock startled him so badly that his claws extended to their full length and he snarled loudly.

"Vic? You in there buddy?" Came the familiar voice of his boss, Harold.

Creed shot up ramrod straight. He quickly retracted his claws, and sniffed the air. The smell of tobacco and peppermint stung his nose. Yep, it was the old geezer all right.

With lightening speed Victor was at the door and ripping it open. "Yeah, Harry?"

Harold's eyebrows shot up. "Uh, Vic? You okay? Junior was just a-tellin' me

'bout you sprintin' off. I figured somethin' was wrong. Not like you Vic. What happened? Rough night?"

Creed's thoughts quickly flickered to last night. It honestly wasn't that eventful; a couple beers and watchin' some good ol' _Saving Private Ryan_. Nothing out of the norm for that mutant.

"Uh, not in particular. It's just uh…" Creed trailed off, not really sure how to word this. _It's just that I saw this guy who injected my brother with anamatium on the news and I thought I should warn my brother and mutants alike that he's on the prowl. _Yeah, that'd be a good one for the water cooler.

"Family matters?" Harold prompted.

"Yeah…how'd you know?"

"Honestly, after hearing how fast you tore outta there, either it was family matters or the bakery was havin' a sale again." Harry said with a smile. Victor scoffed. It wasn't his fault the bakery made such delicious doughnuts that were so good they should be illegal.

"So you're a-headin' out?" Harold asked.

Victor half smiled. "Yeah…sorry 'bout this Harry. I dunno how long I'll be gone."

"Ah, it's fine. I needed Junior to get workin' summore anyways, you know how he gets." Harold joked. Creed smiled.

"Thanks Harry." Creed said, and he really meant it.

"Now don't get all gooey with me, boy. Hurry up and get outta here, can't keep you from your family any longer!"

Creed nodded, shook the old geezer's hand, and scrambled back into his trailer. He had and irking feeling that it was gunna be a long trip.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Creed liked driving. It's nice, peaceful. With the loud hum of the engine, it was just enough background noise to keep the mutant awake to contemplate where the hell he was gunna find his brother.

Where would he be? Back in Canada? Victor groaned. He didn't have a passport and really wasn't in the mood for a jump-the-fence ordeal. The sucky thing was that Jimmy probably _was_ back in Canada. That's where he was last time with the guy ditched them back in Africa.

Jimmy seemed like the woodsy, Northern kinda guy, which actually narrowed down his options quite a bit. Okay, so pretty much the top half of freakin' America. Creed gave a weary sigh as he drove out of the Oregon borders and onto Idaho's borders. It was already night time, around 11. Creed scratched the back of his head and let out a very loud yawn. Quietly pulling onto a shoulder of the road, he cut the engine, pulled his seat back, and closed his eyes. He'd really start searching tomorrow, but for now he'd just sleep.

"_What about you Creed? What's your best memory?" Stryker asked as the two walked down the halls of Stryker's base in Alkali Lake. Creed's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How the hell did the topic of where his next target to kill turn into his best memory?_

"_Why do you ask?" Victor asked, raising an eyebrow. He really wasn't in the mood to get in touch with his inner thoughts, with Stryker of all people. _

"_Just wonderin'. I mean I can tell you've been around the block. You've got to have a lot of memories up in there." Stryker gestured to Victor's head._

_Creed stared at Stryker intensely. He didn't know of the man was honestly curious or just playing him to get out some information about Wolverine. Creed said nothing as he contemplated on whether telling Stryker or not._

_His best memory was not when they won the Civil War, or WWI, or WWII. It wasn't when he got his first kiss from a girl, or when he lost his virginity. It was, oddly enough, not days after when he and Jimmy ran away from home when they were young children. _

_Jimmy was sobbing endlessly as he looked at his bloody knuckles with bone-claws protruding out of them. And sniffling. And coughing. And pretty much everything else that made Creed want strangle something just for some peace and quiet. Honestly, the kid was _always_ sick!_

"_Vic, why can't we go back?" Jimmy sniffed._

"_Because, Jimmy, they'll kill us." Creed deadpanned._

"_Why?" Jimmy asked, looking up with those big, wet puppy-dog eyes of his._

"_We're different, that's why." Victor said, holding up his clawed hand and pointing towards Jimmy's bone-claws to insinuate what 'different' meant._

"_Because I'm a freak." Jimmy whimpered. Victor sighed as his stomach churned to somehow cheer the kid up._

"_It's okay, bub. We can be freaks together." Victor explained. Jimmy looked back up again, his face showing hope for what seemed like the first time in forever. And that moment right there, was the first time Victor ever felt like a real brother._

_Creed glanced back at Stryker. "Don't have one, sir." Somehow that memory just seemed to private to share._

"HEY!" _BANG BANG BANG "_HEEEY!" _BANG BANG BANG "_HEEEEEEY!

"WHOA!" Creed shouted as he flew up from his seat. The sun was shining brightly through his car window, and the brightness stung his eyes. "Gah!"

"HEEY!" Shouted the voice again.

Creed whipped his head around to see a woman around 40 years old smacking on his car-door window.

Victor, not very much of a morning person, and well, not very much of a people person snarled. "What the hell do you want!" He barked.

The woman stopped in mid-smack and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She started to talk but the car-window muffled the noise. Victor groaned in annoyance, opened his car-door, and slammed it harder than necessary.

"What?" He asked, his tone must softer now that he wasn't in kill-who-ever-the-hell-woke-me-up-mode. He glanced at the women, furrowing her eyebrows. She looked oddly familiar.

Her blonde hair was tied up in a pony-tail, and was wearing a fitted T-shirt and some very worn looking jeans. She also had a bag around her shoulder. Even though that description could match just about every blonde chick in the entire universe and beyond, something about her eyes formed a pit in Victor's stomach.

The woman didn't answer, so Victor asked again. "What do you want?"

"You look familiar." She pointed out. Creed watched as her laugh lines around her eyes squinted as she started at him intensely.

"The same could go for you." Creed grumbled. Honestly, after having a very intense dream that like, he'd like to at least wake up and think about it a little bit. Not be woken up by some crazed woman who likes to point out completely random things.

"No, like, _really_ familiar." She said. And that was it. Creed stared at her dumbly in confusion.

"What do you want?" He asked for a third time. His patience was wearing thin. "Money?" Creed felt his wallet in his back-pocket. After bringing a whopping $73 dollars with him, he wasn't in the mood to spend the last of it.

The woman seemed to notice Victor's impatience and shook her head quickly. "No! No, not at all. I was wondering if I could get a ride?" She asked, glancing at him with those strikingly familiar blue eyes.

Creed raised an eyebrow. "A ride to where?" He asked suspiciously.

"Montana, actually." She answered. He blinked at her. That was another state away. He wasn't sure he wanted to be with this weird chick for that long. However, his conscious won his argument, mainly because he was headed that way anyways, and God damnit it was _the right thing to do._

_Fine, stupid conscious. Don't expect me to be happy about it._ Creed thought bitterly to himself. As if his conscious would actually answer him.

"Get in the car." He grumbled. The woman, obviously pleased, opened the creaking car door and plopped in happily.

Creed got in the driver's side, adjusted his seat, started the car, and began the trip to Montana.

"So what took you so long to wake up?" The woman asked.

Creed sighed. "I was dreamin'."

"'Bout what?" She asked.

Creed heaved out another sigh. He didn't want to play a question game. "Don't remember." Actually he did, but just as with Stryker, he wasn't too big on sharing his deepest thoughts.

"I'm Emma. Emma Frost." She introduced herself, holding out a small hand. Creed glanced down at it.

_Just because it was the right thing to do_, Creed held out his hand and shook it. That name. Emma Frost. Something was prickling at the back of his head. So familiar. He….just…couldn't…put…his…finger…on…it.

Her had was oddly cold, and firm. His big hand pretty much engulfed hers. He gently pulled his back and returned it to the wheel. "So what's your name?" She asked.

Creed paused. Pretty much anyone who found him familiar from a long time ago meant it wasn't a good relationship. Or a happy one. _Did I even have a good relationship?_ He asked himself.

But the woman looked innocent enough, and he honestly couldn't remember if he did anything bad to her. "Uh…Creed. Victor Creed."

Bad move. Extremely bad move. Such a bad move it made the guy that ruined the Cub's game back in '03 look like and extremely good move. _Oh shit!_ Creed screamed in his mind.

I say this was a bad move, because recognition dominated the girls face. And it wasn't the hey-I-found-an-old-friend! Kind of recognition. It was more of the hey-you're-that-son-of-a-bitch-I-hate! Kind of recognition.

"YOU!" She screeched so loudly that, thanks to Victor's hyper-sensitive ears, it pretty much made him deaf for a second.

"What?!" He asked innocently. Although he was anything but.

"It was YOU! The jackass that captured me! Back in '73! Oh I've been waiting for this for a LONG time!" She shouted. Creed's memory just barely cleared, but not enough time to figure out why exactly he captured her.

Her entire body suddenly turned into sparkling diamonds, which scared Creed shitless. And if that wasn't enough, she pulled her diamond-hard fist (literally!) back and snapped it forward with so much force Creed actually heard the _whoosh_ sound. Before he could register that, her fist connected to his jaw that he heard a sickening crunch with so much force his head banged into his window and made a hole in it.

The 150 year-old mutant saw stars for a good 30 seconds as he slammed onto the breaks and howled like a little girl.

"GAAAAH! Ow ow ow ow SHIT ow!" He ripped off his seat-belt and scrambled out of his car faster than he could've ever imagined and slumped onto the ground. He felt his jaw, which made him almost puke his non-existent breakfast, because there was no more sturdy bone there. Just blood and a squishy dent.. He heard Emma climb out of the car which only scared him even more.

"You're the asshole that almost killed me! And almost killed all of those mutants! And killed my sister!" She snarled, literally snarled. Creed whimpered and started to crawl away. She grabbed the back of his collar and threw him into the car. "When I'm done with you, you're gunna _wish_ you were dead!" She yelled.

Creed's fight instincts kicked in, and while trying to ignore his jaw and head, he used all of his strength to throw her off of him. She only flew 10 feet, because she was in her diamond form. Scrambling back up, she held up another fist and lunged at him again.

Creed was more alert now, and his animal-like sense returned. He dodged her fist, which landed right on the car and actually punctured a hole in it. "Wait, wait, wait!" Creed yelled as he dodged another fist.

She wasn't listening. Ugh, Creed had to do this the hard way. He let his claws extend their full length, and when she threw herself at him again he was able to grab both of her forearms and pin her to the ground. She started to struggle under his weight. If person just off the street saw this, he'd probably leave with a very dirty mind.

"Listen to me-no LISTEN!" Creed roared. That shut her up and made her stop struggling. "I don't wanna hurt you! Or anyone else! Just please calm down for a second, alright?" Creed pleaded. He felt the healing pain of his jaw regenerating, and the cut on the back of his head healing up fast.

"I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I'm trying to kill William Stryker! See? I'm not bad anymore!" Creed explained frantically.

"Bullshit!" Emma shouted. "You worked with Stryker. I know your motivations. Now get the hell off of me so I can tear you limb from limb!"

Creed didn't move. He glared intensely at her, trying to show that he really wasn't working with that bastard anymore. "Emma, it's been 30 years. 30 years changes people a lot. I mean _a lot._ It made me finally understand Jimmy's motivations."

Emma's face changed when he mentioned Jimmy. "Jimmy." She repeated. "My sister's boyfriend." She glared back at him. "He helped me escape. He was more of a man you'll ever be."

"I know." Victor sighed sadly. Emma's face relaxed a bit. "Look, I'm sick of killing, alright? I saw Stryker on the news yesterday. I don't want him to do what he did back in '73. It really takes a toll on you, killing your own kind. Stryker's not a mutant, he can't emphasize." Creed explained, sadness dominating his face. He really meant it, Emma could tell.

The woman slowly transformed back into her human form, having a defeated look on her face as well. "Okay." She grumbled. "Get off of me. God knows that people would think if they saw us like this."

Creed quickly understood what she was refereeing too, and with a red face, scrambled off of her and helped her up. "You still owe me a ride." She mumbled as she returned to the passenger side.

Victor, surprised with her quick change of heart and trust, nodded understandingly and climbed into the drivers side.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Sorry for breaking your jaw, your car-window, punching a hole in your car, and throwing you into a car." Emma said, after 2 hours of extremely uncomfortable silence.

Victor's lips twitched into a smile. "Sorry for capturing you, y'know, way back when." Emma nodded.

"I think we're even." She said.

"So why are ya headin' to Montana?" Creed asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"My husband and kids are there." She deadpanned. Creed nodded, feeling a little guilty that he almost ruined yet another family.

"Well, uh…what are you doin' all the way out here?"

"I was visiting my mother." She stated. Creed nodded again, not really sure what to say. "The damn airport wouldn't sell me a ticket, because I'm a _mutant._ They made me register that I was a mutant back in '95. Absolutely ridiculous. Discrimination at it's finest." She seethed. "I've had to hitch rides."

"That sucks." Was all Creed could say. So the government was making mutants _register_ now? He felt his stomach twist with anger.

"Indeed, " Emma mumbled, "So how exactly are you gunna kill Stryker?"

"Well, I'm gunna find Jimmy first. He was his lab rat, I know he'll want to gut Stryker like a fish." Creed explained.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "How're you going to get Jimmy to help you? I saw you two fight. I don't think you guys are on the best-of-terms. In fact, I'm pretty sure Jimmy hates you."

"I know…" Creed mumbled tiredly. It was going to take some extreme convincing on Creed's part to fix the dent in him and Jimmy's relationship. "But I've gotta find him first."

"Good luck with that." Emma snorted.

Creed frowned. "So uh, where'd you go after you escaped out of the island?"

"Professor X picked us up." She stated.

"Who?"

"Professor Xavier. He's an extremely powerful mutant, but good. He started a school for all kid-mutants a like. I think just about every mutant respects him." She explained.

Victor paused. "So what's his power?"

"Well he can read peoples minds. And pretty much make people do whatever he wants them to do. He also somehow finds people like, wherever they are. I dunno how he does it but-" She paused. "Wait a second…"

Creed's chest swelled with so much hope that his chest might burst. Maybe his year-long search suddenly changed into a week-long search. "He can find anyone?" He asked happily.

Emma nodded, and then smiled.

Creed couldn't help but smile too. "Where is his school?"

"In New York. Xavier Institute For Higher Learning." She explained.

Creed was so excited he could've started bouncing in his seat like a 5 -year-old girl. "Well, looks like I'm heading to New York."


	3. Chapter 3

I want to thank the lovely Scarlett Burns for beta-ing this for me! Seriously girl, you're amazing!

Also, thanks again everyone for your fantastic reviews, as always!

And I keep on forgetting disclaimers! I do NOT own any X-men in any way, shape, or form!

Enjoy! :D

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"Is this the street?" Victor Creed asked, sparing a quick glance at the person currently seated in the passenger seat, Emma Frost. The forty year-old woman gave a quick nod in affirmation, followed by a toothy grin.

"Gah! It's so good to be home. I hope Frank cooked good meals for the kids! I mean his chef skills rival a blind raccoon's." Emma blabbed away. Honestly, Creed was having a hard time comparing this woman to the woman who almost killed him two days ago. But then again, he'd been through enough horrible experiences to know that you never mention a woman's constant mood changes. It could result in a smack in the face or a knee in the groin.

_Never again._ Creed thought painfully.

"Oh! This one! This house right here!" Emma exclaimed, pointing at a brown house on the corner of the street. Creed nodded and pulled into the small driveway.

"Well, it's certainly been…" Emma trailed off, obviously trying to find at least _one_ good adjective to call the trip.

"I'd say painful." Creed mused, rubbing his now healed jaw. "But, y'know, we could go with interesting."

Emma smiled. "Sure… interesting. Listen, I'm not too great with goodbyes."

"Me neither."

"Well…uh…"

"How 'bout a handshake?" Creed asked, extending his large hand. Emma seemed to find this idea of goodbye the least-awkward, so she extended her hand as well, watching it being engulfed by Creed's.

"Take care." She paused for a second. "Hey, if you're heading to New York, I suggest you take the train."

Creed's eyebrows furrowed. "And why in God's name would I take the train?"

"Well…" Emma glanced at the truck skeptically. "I highly doubt this piece of crap would make it across the country."

Creed scoffed. "I'm sure this piece of crap will make it."

"Most likely not, and considering how much money you have, you'll run out of gas money before you ever make it out of Montana." She said smugly.

Creed narrowed his eyes. Damn her logic. "Fine." he grumbled.

Emma grinned wickedly. "Good luck. And say hi to Scott for me!"

Before Victor could ask who the hell Scott was, she jumped out of his truck and made a mad dash for her front door.

Victor watched as Emma's husband swung open the door, caught Emma, and did that cliché spin-hug they always do in the movies. After breaking from their passionate kiss, two kids flew in out of nowhere and clung to their mom like freakin' leaches.

Creed grimaced, mainly because he detested kids on any level. They were so small, and obnoxious, and wouldn't shut the hell up, and somehow were _always_ covered in some sort of goop. He couldn't see himself ever having a little runt, but strangely enough he could see Jimmy having one.

Creed's eyes grew in horror. What if Jimmy _did_ have a kid? Christ, that'd make him an Uncle. Creed wasn't sure he wanted to be an Uncle.

What if Jimmy-boy had a wife? '_Good lord,'_ Creed thought, '_I best be gettin' ready for some extremely awkward introductions.'_

With disturbing thoughts like that running through his mind, Creed put his truck in reverse before he could meet the questioning gaze of Emma's husband. He had no idea what he'd say to the man.

_Oh yeah, your wife and I go waaaaay back! I once kidnapped her for a psycho experiment and just a few days ago she beat the __livin' shit outta me!_

Good times, good times indeed.

Creed quickly drove down the road, wanting to avoid such a conversation, and continued onto the nearest train station.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Victor hadn't been on a whole lotta trains in his life, but with his limited expierence, he could tell you how much he hates them. Back in the wars he'd been forced to take the train, and every freakin' time, he'd loathed it more than he loathed small children.

Sure, they're super fast and save _you_ time and money. Yeah. Sure. Those aren't good enough reasons for our Victor Creed. See, he likes being in control of things. Not being forced to sit down next to some kid whose finger is so far up his nose, Victor wouldn't be surprised if he was scratching his brain. Or the mom of said kid, having just discovered what digital cameras are, and taking pictures… Of. Every. Thing.

Or the teenager who is yappin' away at her phone with her friend, telling her just _hooooow cute!_ this one guy is.

Torture. Pure torture. Being shot 10,000 times in Korea was a cake-walk compared to this. Creed groaned and leaned back in his seat. Four more days of this. Four more excruciatingly painful days.

The old mutant heaved out a frustrated sigh. Jimmy better appreciate the extreme pain he'd gone through just to freakin' find him.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"_And here we are; Grand Central Station. We thank you for choosing us as your way of transport, and hope you enjoy New York!" _The overly cheerful voice said, suspiciously-sounding-like-a-flight-attendant. Creed half expected a gospel choir to appear out of nowhere and start singing '_Hallelujah!' _

As people exited the train painfully slow, Creed's anticipation to find his brother grew. He'd reach the moment of truth soon. He'd find out where the hell Jimmy Logan Howlett was.

Grabbing his bag, Victor Creed stalked out of the station, intent on finding Xavier's school.

It suddenly occurred to Creed he had no idea where the hell this guy's school was. He should've asked Emma for more details, instead of jumpin' the gun. Creed contemplated looking for a phonebook or getting a taxi, but suddenly realized that he had no money left.

'_Wow Creed'__'__,_ The mutant thought sarcastically, '_You're one smart son-of-a-bitch.'_

"Ya lost?" asked a youthful voice behind him. Creed turned around to see a boy (or man? The guy was taller than Creed) standing there with at least ten text books in his hands. This worried Creed for a second, because the man-boy was having absolutely no trouble holding so many books.

"Uh…yeah, how'd you know?" Creed asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man-boy snorted. "You look worried as shit."

Victor noticed a twinge of a Russian accent in there.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Creed grumbled.

"Need any directions?" The giant offered.

"Actually, … I'm lookin' for Xavier's Institute For Higher Learning." He recited from memory.

Recognition flickered across the man-boy's face. The good kind of recognition. "Ah, no way! That's where I go to school. Do ya need a ride there?" he asked. Victor was a little taken aback by the amount of trust this guy was throwing at him. But then again, judging by how the man-boy was holding all those text-books, he could easily defend himself.

"Really? That'd be great," Creed said, feeling his stress fade away.

The giant shifted all ten textbooks onto his right arm and extended his left hand. "I'm Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin." Victor's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Just call me Peter." He said with a laugh.

Creed half-smiled as he shook Peter's hand. "Nice to meet ya, Peter."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Creed was not gunna lie, ; riding in the car with Peter was a lot easier than riding in one with Emma. Maybe it was because Creed never tried to capture the man way back when and it didn't make the tension in the air so thick you could slice through it with a hot knife.

"So why are you heading to Mutant High?" Peter asked, cracking his neck muscles. Creed wondered if he was doing that to make himself seem more intimidating.

"Lookin' for someone"

Peter nodded, obviously not going to ask any more questions. "So you're a mutant, huh?" Creed asked, leaning back in his seat.

Peter grinned. "Yup." He then proceeded to hold up his right hand, which was suddenly immersed in steel. Creed couldn't help but have horrifying flashbacks of Emma.

"So what's with all the books?" Creed asked, point a thumb at the…well, pretty much horde of books currently sitting in the backseat.

"Oh, Professor X asked me to pick em' up for his new Physics class. Professor Summers was supposed to do it, but eh, apparently he was busy." the Russian explained. Creed nodded like he knew who they were talking about.

The remainder of the ride was in silence, which was completely fine with Creed. Honestly, he'd take this over a god-awful train any day.

At least thirty minutes passed, and Creed watched as they approached a sturdy looking gate, opening when the car got about three feet close to it.

"Well…" Peter glanced around, "This is Mutant High."

Now, Creed's visited _quite_ a few high school's in his time. But most of his high school experiences were to capture teens with extraordinary abilities, which weren't very fond memories. The last memory he has of being at a high school was capturing that one kid…Scott something… the one with laser eyes. _Hmm… _Creed thought, _wonder what became of him._

This high school, however, was completely different than what he's been too. The place looked like a college…an Ivy League college. I mean, there were actually decorative pools out front, and the whole school was covered in vines. When he'd taken Scott, Creed remember kids lounging about in front of the school, but they hadn't been running on water, guiding paper airplanes with their minds, or shooting ice out of their freakin' hands.

Peter parked his car just outside of the garage, and the two climbed out. "Peter!" came an excited voice, probably belonging to a young girl. Victor turned his head to see, bingo, a girl around fourteen years old ran up to the giant with a death-hug.

"Kitty!" Peter grinned, wrapping his arms around her. Creed had to laugh at their height differences. Honestly, the tip of her head just barely made it to his chest.

"Where were you? You promised to help me on my Algebra!" She pouted.

"Ah, sorry! I had to do some chores for Professor X. How 'bout you go and grab it and we'll work on it out here." Peter grinned. Kitty, seeming pleased with this, sprinted back towards the school, running through the wall. Wait…

Creed blinked twice. "What the hell…" he mumbled.

"Yeah, she really did just run though a wall." Peter laughed, slapping Creed on the back.

"Huh…that's a new one. Here I thought I'd seen 'em all." Creed mused.

"Oh, you'll see a lot of things you've never seen befo- Hello Professor!" Peter quickly said.

Victor turned his head yet again, and again, had to take a double take. A woman, probably one of the most beautiful Creed has seen in a while, was walking towards them. She had bleach-white hair, but looked to be around her early thirties. With her lean, tall frame, Victor could only think of one thing. _Hot._ He couldn't help but smirk.

"Who's this, Peter?" the woman asked, not far away from the two now. She looked even prettier up close, Creed decided.

"Oh, uh, this is Victor Creed. He said he needed to speak with Professor X." Peter explained. The woman raised an eyebrow, and Peter looked the slightest bit uncomfortable. Kitty, conveniently, just walked out of the wall with her arms full of papers and books. Peter gave her a relieved look, slapped Creed on the back again and nodded towards the professor, before bounding off to follow her.

"Nice to meet you, Victor." the woman said, holding out her hand. Although she had a calm appearance, thanks to Creed's super-senses, he could tell she was a little wary.

Creed held out his hand, five claws and all, and awaited her reaction. Seeing his super sharp claws, the woman hesitated on grabbing his hand. "S'alright, I won't scratch you. Believe me, I've had years of practice." He grinned, exposing his fangs. Her eyebrows furrowed a little bit, and she had yet to shake his hand, so in an awkward moment of silence he returned his hand to his side.

"I'm Ororo." she said.

"Orore-o?" Creed asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Honestly, what was up with these mutants having freakishly hard-to-pronounce names?

"Ororo." She stated again with a tone that showed that she'd been though this song and dance many, many times.

"Ororo. Whew, that's a mouth-full." Victor flashed her his most charming grin, which didn't have as much of an effect as he hoped, seeing as she only shrugged.

"You can call me Storm, if that makes things any easier." She said.

"Storm. Yeah, I think I'll stick with that."

"So why do you need to see Professor X?" Storm asked.

"Uh… I need him to find someone for me."

Thankfully, Storm seemed okay with this, so she nodded and motioned for him to follow, which Creed had no problem doing.

"Hey! Storm! Who is this?" asked another adult, running up. He looked young, with feathery brown hair, and a muscular build. He was also sporting some sunglasses which, upon seeing these, sent bells ringin' in Creed's head. Didn't the guy he captured way back when wear sunglasses? And wasn't his name-

"Hey Scott!" Storm smiled. Oh no. Oh,_hell no._ "This is-" Oh please God do _not_ mention his name. "Victor Creed."

Annnnnd. Nothing. Nothing at all. The mutant's face didn't change. Then: "Victor Creed? You sound familiar…have we met before?" he asked.

Victor kept an eye on those sunglasses. Emma could shatter his jaw with a pure diamond fist… and Scotty-boy here could blast his sorry ass to China. "Uhm…" He coughed, _"_Nah, don't think we've met."

Scott raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him.

Storm, sensing something bad, hooked her hand around Creed's arm and tugged. "C'mon," she said, clearly wanting to avoid any conflict. "We should go see the Professor now."

Victor followed obediently, and damn Scott decided to follow. "So where are you from?" Scotty-boy asked.

Creed was just about to say Canada, but in fear of that triggering any memories for Scott, said, "Oregon."

"I hear it's beautiful up there." Storm smiled. Creed could tell she was finally starting to relax.

"Oh, it is. Especially on the coast." Creed said, and his mind drifted back there. He wondered if Junior was complain' about all the extra work he had to do now that Creed was gone.

They were now in the school, walking down the decorated, fancy halls. "So this person you're looking for," Storm began. "What are they? Long lost family?"

"Close. A long lost brother. Haven't seen him in years." Creed explained, feeling more anticipation build up in his stomach. Honestly, Jimmy could be anywhere right now.

"Well, I hope you find him." Storm said with a smile that made Victor know she meant it.

The trio walked in silence for the remainder of the epic journey to Professor X's office. Storm in the lead, Creed on her left, and Scott on her right. Scotty-boy kept on shooting Creed random glances, trying to remember him, and Creed knew he was in deep shit if Scott figured out who he was.

The minutes passed, and finally they approached two doors. Storm knocked, and that was it. She just stared at the door. No answer, either. Creed furrowed his eyebrows. _What the hell?_

_You must be the visitor Storm was telling me about._ A voice said from behind Creed's head. As a reflex, Creed jumped back a good two feet, extended his claws and bared his teeth. Storm and Scott stared in surprise.

A chuckle was heard again, and Creed whipped around, not seeing anyone. _Relax__.__,__ I'm speaking with you telepathically. _Victor could only blink.

_Who the hell is this? _He seethed. Speaking to someone in person was one thing; having someone talk to you inside your head was another. Creed didn't like it; it made him feel oddly vulnerable.

_I'm Charles Xavier. Or Professor X, as some people call me. Storm said you needed to speak with me? _The voice asked.

Creed suddenly felt like an idiot. Didn't Emma say he could read minds? _Oh uh… sorry, 'bout that. Never had someone talk to me uh…this way._

The voice had a gentle laugh. _It's perfectly understandable. Now please, come in._

Storm pushed open the door, and Creed quickly followed. The room he entered was huge…he was surprised it could be called an office. With huge windows, light was filtering in. There was also a huge chalkboard pushed in the corner of the room. _Is this a class room?_ heasked himself.

_Actually yes. Physics._ The voice answered. Victor whipped around to see an older man, bald, sitting in a wheelchair. Creed blinked at him. He didn't really know what Professor X would look like, but this surprised him.

"Hello there," Xavier said;, a warm, welcoming smile on his face. Creed felt himself trusting the man already.

"Uh, hey." Creed waved, his huge claws making a quiet _whoosh_ing noise.

"So you needed to see me?" Xavier asked.

"Yeah, actually. Word on the street is that you can find pretty much anyone you want,." Creed explained. Storm stood to the left the Professor while Scott hung back by the door.

Xavier smiled. "Did Emma tell you this?"

"How did you-" Creed began, but quickly shut up as Xavier tapped his head. Dang, this would have to take some getting used too.

"Looks like you've been through a lot to get here. Honestly, I didn't know it was possible for a man to detest trains as much as you do. Or get his jaw shattered that badly." Xavier mused.

Creed frowned, rubbing his jaw again at the memory. "I'm a fast healer." Xavier gave an understanding nod while Storm blinked at him in surprise. Scott's eyebrow rose suspiciously.

"So you're looking for your brother?" Xavier asked.

"Yeah, his name is James Logan."

Now both of Scott's eyebrows were raised. "Do ya think you can find 'im?" Creed asked.

Xavier paused a minute. "James Logan."

"Yeah, kinda short, muscular. Freakin' fuzzy face. Uh…oh yeah, big, sharp metal claws that pop out of his hands?" Creed asked hopefully.

Now Scott's jaw was on the ground. Storm looked surprised. "You mean Logan?" sheasked.

"Logan?" Creed asked. "He dropped his first name?"

Scott's face was one of pure horror. "You mean there's two of 'em now?!"

"Whaddaya mean?" Creed asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Victor, I don't need to even search for Logan. He's here," Xavier explained.


	4. Chapter 4

_Aaaah you guys are amazing! Your reviews never fail to make me smile! :D_

_I want to thank Scarlett Burns again for beta-reading, she is the epitome of awesomeness! _

_And I don't own X-men, unfortunately D: _

_Please enjoy! :D_

----------------------

_"Victor, I don't need to even search for Logan. He's here," Xavier explained._

Silence. Pure, unadulterated silence. Creed blinked once, then twice. Then, "Excuse me?"

"Yes," Xavier nodded. "He actually just arrived yesterday from Canada." Creed's face went blank.

"Here? As in New York? Or here, as in, this school?" the mutant asked, his eyes growing wider.

"This school. He's currently…" Xavier closed his eyes, concentrating. "Ah, watching a hockey game with a few of our students in the living room …and smoking a cigar," Xavier added with distaste.

Creed's eye twitched. Jimmy was here. _Here_. In this school. Not even a mile away. It actually made him frown.

What would he say to Jimmy? Honestly, he hadn't even thought it …having been too caught upon the seemingly impossible act of finding him. It's been thirty years! His brother could be a completely changed person.

After all, he was.

Xavier smiled. "So you're Logan's brother?' he mused. "I thought Logan had no living relatives."

"Neither did I," Storm said, looking him up and down. "At first I didn't believe it, but I'm starting to see similarities between the two of you."

"Like what?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow. "They look nothing alike."

"They talk the same," Storm pointed out, scratching her jaw. "And… I dunno. There's just something about them…"

Creed however, wasn't listening. His mind was somewhere else. Jimmy probably _had_ changed. Was he nicer? Most likely, seeing as he was currently watching a hockey game with a bunch of punk kids; something Creed could never do even if you paid him. Would he have more patience? Once again, probably, if he could tolerate a bunch of kids. Was he more revenge-driven? Would he slash n' gash Creed the second he saw him? As Creed's mind buzzed with dozens of thoughts, Xavier spoke up.

"Mr. Creed, before you see Logan, I need to tell you something."

Snapped out of his thoughts, Creed looked down at the old geezer. "What do you wanna tell me?"

"Well, you obviously know a lot about Logan's past. I wanted to tell you he's been having some…trouble… remembering. So don't be disappointed if he doesn't remember some aspects of it."

Creed's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Won't remember? Since when did Jimmy have problems remembering things? Honestly, Creed couldn't remember what he had for breakfast; Jimmy could tell you every meal he ate in the past week and what time it was when he ate it.

Was what happened on that island so traumatic to Jimmy-boy that he blocked it out? Or did he just block out unhappy memories? That seemed more reasonable. But then again, _how_ could he block out all those memories? Creedwasn't capable of blocking out the horrible things he's done and he highly doubted that Jimmy'd be able to either.

Xavier considered him furthur. "He's never mentioned you before, either."

Creed knew what he was suggesting, but refused to consider that possibility. "He'll remember. Believe me, he will," Creed grumbled. Memories of him and his brother fighting side-by-side in all those wars flashed in his mind. He would remember that. He had too.

Once again, Xavier was probing his thoughts. _We can see_, Xavier told him.

Creed gave a firm nod.

"Can we get Jimmy now?" Victor asked, his voice edging on impatience. Honestly, he didn't just come here to yap about memory problems.

The telepath gave a solemn nod, and closed his eyes, most likely trying to contact Jimmy with his mind. They sat in silence for a moment before Scott spoke up.

"So how old is Logan _really_? It's been kind of a mystery around here," he said, curiosity dominating his face. Storm couldn't help but look interested too.

Victor blinked at them, nonplussed. Out of all the things they could know about Jimmy, they wanted to know his age? "Well, let's see… he was born in 1837...it's 2003 right now… 160, roughly."

Storm stood agape, while Scott smirked and stated, "So he really is just a grumpy old man." Storm shot him a scolding look.

"Don't tell him that," Storm said to Scott. "He'll be even angrier at you….and God knows what kind of hell will break loose then." Storm shivered at the thought.

Creed raised an eyebrow. Jimmy was mad at Scott? Why? Did they not like each other or something? Victor sighed. He'd be able to figure out all these goddamn questions as soon as Xavier got a hold of Jimmy.

Xavier's face had a slight frown on it. "We'll, he's currently ignoring me, which is no surprise."

"Why is he ignorin' ya?" Creed asked.

"I failed to give him some….information,." Xavier explained.

Creed snorted.

"That's Jimmy for ya."

Xavier smiled. "I'd just bring you to him, but judging on your thoughts, odds are the reunion might end a little bloody. I could send Sco-"

"No," Scott deadpanned.

Xavier's lip turned into a smirk. "Fair enough. Storm? If you'd please go get Logan?"

Storm smiled lightly. "I'd be glad too. I don't think he'd listen to Scott anyways." She started to walk towards the door, but stopped in front of Creed. "You ready?" she asked him.

"Been ready," he said, a smile playing on his lips. Storm had a smile of her own. Nodding, she proceeded to walk out the door to get Jimmy.

The room fell in to a dead silence again. As the seconds ticked on, Creed started to fidget. How would this go? '_Hey buddy! It's been a while!_' No, that was just a no.

How about, '_Hey man, long time no see! I'd love to catch up but first I gotta tell you about the guy who gave you adamantium claws!_' That just had awkward written all over it.

Creed sighed with frustration. This was gunna be harder than he thought. His impromptu greeting scenarios were quickly interrupted by soft mumblings outside of the room, coming from down the hall. An Average Joe wouldn't be able to hear a thing, but Creed was able to pick up a few sentences.

"Honestly Storm, ya pulled me outta watchin' a game for a chat with ol' Chuck? I bet $10 bucks with Bobby that Toronto'd win," said a horribly familiar voice.

"I think this is more important than a hockey game, Logan," came Storm's soft voice. There was a grunt that followed which was undeniably Jimmy.

The clunking of their feet could be heard a mile away with how quiet the room was, and Victor honestly didn't think it was possible that his heart could triple its beat in a few nano seconds. His brother was so close. _So close_.

It had been thirty long years since he'd seen the face of his brother. Despite the fact that he and his brother never aged, he wondered if Jimmy's face had changed. Would it look older, more mature? Or would it have the same young, rebel look it had always held.

The door opened silently with its well-oiled hinges, and Storm appeared again, taking her original spot next to Xavier. And then, in came James Logan Howlett.

Victor didn't know it was possible, but the room got even quieter. Seeing his little brother here…in the flesh….it was a weird, surreal experience. It was like someone just grabbed seventies Jimmy and plopped him in the twenty-first century. Honestly, he looked exactly the same as when he left him fighting Deadpool.

He even had the same old mutton chop-like beard on his face. The same posture too; slightly hunched like he was going to be attacked at any moment. Hell, the same flannel shirt with the undershirt tucked into very worn jeans. Jeez, there was even the cigar hangin' from his mouth. Everything. Everything was the same. It took Creed a second, but he did find one difference; the look Jimmy gave him.

Usually whenever Jimmy looked at Creed, there was always some emotion behind it. Whether it was joy or seething hate, there was always something there. But now… just a blank stare.

There was a beat of awkward silence as Jimmy glanced at Creed. Victor waited for a second, and very subtly shifted his feet at an angle to brace himself incase his little brother snapped and decided to tackle him. Seriously, this reunion could go anywhere.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened. Jimmy's face didn't even twitch. Now Creed was getting worried; Did he surprise his brother so badly that he'd gone into shock?

Jimmy's face suddenly sprung to life as he raised an eyebrow. His brown eyes left Creed's for a moment and met with Xavier's, giving him a look that clearly said, '_You brought me here for this_?'

His eyes slowly returned to Creed's, and pulled his cigar out of his mouth.

"Who the hell are you?"

Creed was surprised how much five words could totally crumble his spirit. Yeah sure, he and Jimmy-boy had been through some tough times but he didn't think his brother would completely disown him. Storm gave Creed a worried look, while Scott watched on with interest. Xavier heaved a sigh of disappointment. Victor glanced at Xavier. No, Jimmy could've have forgotten. Not after how long they'd stuck together. They were _brothers_.

"It's me, Jimmy; Victor Creed," he said, hoping that'd get at least some kind of reaction out of his little brother.

But still, Jimmy continued to glance at him like he was some kind of stranger. "Who?" he asked, popping his cigar back into his mouth and taking a puff.

Xavier's eyes narrowed at the cigar.

"Your brother," Victor explained.

This actually did get a reaction out of Jimmy. He snorted. "Yeah, sure, brother. And my name's Logan. I think you've confused me with someone else."

"He hasn't," Xavier said quietly.

"What's that, Chuck?"

"He isn't confusing you with anyone, Logan. I've read his thoughts… there is no doubt you are, in fact, his brother," Xavier explained.

Jimmy snorted again, took another drag out of his cigar, and exhaled. "Sure your mind-readin' isn't gettin' a little rusty, Chuck?"

Xavier shook his head with annoyance. Creed decided to speak up. "You honestly don't remember?"

"Bub, I don't remember anythin' up to thirty years ago, and don't think I haven't looked. I have no family; certainly no ," Jimmy said gruffly.

"You don't remember when you escaped with me after you killed our dad? Or when we enrolled in every goddamn war America's ever had? Do you remember Kayla? Kayla Silverfox? William Stryker?! The man who gave you those goddamn claws in that goddamn experiment?!Anything? Anything at all?!" Victor yelled, furious.

Everything! Every freakin' thing Creed had done for Jimmy was gone. Wasted. Dead.

Jimmy's eyebrows furrowed as he quickly got into an attack position. "Watch it, bub! It ain't my fault I can't remember anythin'," he snarled.

"I dunno whose goddamn fault it is but-"

"William Stryker?" shot a voice from the back of the room. Everyone turned their heads to see Scott with his back ramrod straight, his white-knuckled fists at his side.

"William Stryker," Scott said again. His head turned towards Creed's. "And Victor Creed." Creed's furious face suddenly was one of horror. _Oh no_.

"Sabertooth," Scott ground out. Xavier had an alarmed look on his face.

"Now, Scott-"

_ZAP!_

If Victor Creed thought that getting his jaw shattered by Emma was one of the most painful things he'd ever experienced, then he was definitely wrong. Having someone pretty much blast your shoulder off was way worse.

Victor felt his whole body get thrown back as he slammed into the wall behind him. Several things happened after that which would be hard to explain. The sky outside, which was a dashing shade of blue, was now smothered in dark, terrible rain clouds as Storm's eyes went pure white; her hair whipping in non-existent wind. Jimmy's claws were out, and his arms were covering his face, probably from the blast that just shot from Scott's eyes. Scotty-boy, well he was standing there, his hand holding the frame of his glasses, completely and utterly still, like he was frozen in place.

"That's enough, Storm," Xavier said as he glanced outside. Storm blinked, her eyes returning to their normal color, and in seconds the clouds vanished.

Jimmy retracted his claws and glanced at Scott.

"What the hell was that?!" he shouted, and glanced at Creed. "Aww, God…!"

Creed, howling with pain, followed his brother's eye-line to his left shoulder.

Instead of seeing his shoulder, he just saw singed bone. All the skin around the bone was charred, burning flesh. If the sight didn't make him want to hurl, the scent certainly did.

Storm let out a horrified gasp and dashed to his side. "Oh no, Creed!" He could tell she was about to ask if he was okay, but she already knew the answer to that and thought better of it.

"Logan, hold Scott down for me, please. I need to un-freeze him," Xavier spoke calmly. Victor was in so much pain he was losing consciousness.

Jimmy, having a hard time looking away from Creed's wounds, ran to Scott and pinned his arms behind his back. All Xavier did was blink, and Scott was breathing rapidly and struggling to get out of Jimmy's iron-like grasp.

"Let go of me! I'm gunna blast that rat-bastard's sorry ass to Russia!" Scott seethed.

"What in God's name is going on?!" Jimmy cried, horrified. Creed couldn't blame him; this probably looked pretty screwed up from an outsider's perspective.

Creed groaned in pain, and said, "I think you blasted my shoulder off."

Scott glared at Creed, then at his shoulder. For a split second, Victor thought he saw a little guilt there, but it was mainly covered up by horrification.

"Scott," Xavier said with a stern tone that meant serious business. "Calm down a second so I can explain." The room fell silent again, save for Creed's howls of pain.

The pain came in nauseating waves, but Creed tried to stay conscious. He watched as Scott and Xavier stared at each other. They did this for at least thirty seconds while Jimmy walked over to Creed, inspecting the damage.

Whatever the Professor said to Scott, it did the trick, because Scott's stance was suddenly relaxed and his hand wasn't twitching for his sunglasses every five seconds.

"I see," Scott mused, and Creed was wondering when the hell his healin' factor would kick in.

"We need to get him to Jean, _now_!" Storm yelled over a particularly loud howl from Creed.

Scott had a look on his face that said he totally was _not_ okay with Creed being in a room with Jean, but Jimmy threw Creed's good arm around him and heaved him up.

"I'm not sayin' I'm trustin' you here, bub," Jimmy began, "But seriously, your shoulder is disgusting. No offence."

"None taken. Just get me to whoever the hell Jean is," Creed grunted.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

You know Creed's slight distaste for trains? Yeah, well, multiply that hate times sixty and you'll get his hate for hospitals. Such pushy doctors, and pushy nurses, and pushy orderlies, and freakin' pushy patients and their sick, disgusting children. Creed shuddered.

Although, this wasn't so bad. He was currently sitting on one of the few beds in what Creed could only assume was an operating room. The only doctor here was that hot red-headed chick. That earned him a raised eyebrow from her.

_Damn it is she a telepath, too?_

The pain in his shoulder finally started to ease, despite the fact that his bone was still sticking out. Creed sighed lightly and glanced around.

Scott and Jimmy were back a ways, watching as Jean typed a few things on a computer. Scott looked well, pissed, to say at the least. Even if he did manage to burn Creed's shoulder to a crisp, Creed could tell that Scott was probably never going to forgive him. For once, Jimmy didn't look like he was mad at Creed at all. He definitely looked like he was concentrating, though.

Storm was currently filling Jean in on what the hell happened in Xavier's office. "….so yeah, to make a long story short: Victor and Logan are brothers, and Victor did _something_ to Scott way back when, and Scott decided to blast him to bits."

"Wow, " Jean mused as she punched a few more keys into the computer and looked up. "Sounds like a Jerry Springer show gone bad."

Storm snorted.

Jean smiled at Storm and then looked at Creed. "Well, Victor, your shoulder is showing signs of improvement already."

"Finally," Creed grumbled. "I was wonderin' when it'd start to heal."

Jimmy looked up. "So… we're brothers."

"That's what I've been tryin' to tell ya."

"So you know everythin' 'bout my past?" Jimmy asked, hope appearing on his face. Creed was oddly reminded of that dream he had back before he ran into Emma.

"Well not everything, but most of it. Yeah," Creed said, nodding.

Jimmy frowned slightly. "But why are you showin' up now? Why didn't you contact mebefore now?"

"Well I-"

Creed was quickly cut off by the laboratory door opening, and Xavier rolling in. "Hello, Professor." Jean smiled.

"Afternoon, Jean. I trust our patient is alright?" Xavier asked, looking at Creed.

"Oh, he's fine. His healing system is a lot like Logan's, it's a bit slower though, she explained as she began to clean up around her station.

"Well, that's good," Xavier said. "Sorry for being late. I had to explain to all of the children that there wasn't a dieing animal in my office."

Creed grimaced as Scott sneered. Victor glanced at Xavier and Logan. "Well, since you're both here, I should probably tell ya."

"Tell us what?" Jimmy asked, folding his arms across his chest. Xavier, no doubt, was already reading Creed's mind, but nonetheless let Victor continue.

"Jimmy, do you remember William Stryker?" Creed asked, warily watching as Scott's fingers twitched towards his sunglasses. Jean shot him a scolding look.

Jimmy's face went blank for a minute, like he was concentrating on something. "Kinda ringin' a bell."

"Yeah, well, he's the one who gave you the adamantium claws."

Jimmy raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"He was conductin' this experiment which required someone with unchartedhealin'abilities; that's you. Anyways, he needed your DNA to make the ultimate weapon. Weapon XI. He also captured a bunch of kids with really strong mutant powers…Scott was one of them," Creed explained, watching as Scott's knuckles turned white again. Jean and Storm looked surprised.

"Yeah, more like _you_ captured me and made me blast a hole through my high school," Scott snarled. Storm and Jean then glanced at Creed.

"Well I'd say I'm sorry, but you're obviously not goin' to accept it."

"No, I'm not," Scott spat. Jean rolled her eyes.

Jimmy rolled his eyes, much like Jean. "We get it, Scott, you're pissed. You already blasted his shoulder to Timbuktu; just relax."

"I won't relax! You didn't know what it was like, being captured," Scott hissed.

Now it was Xavier's turn to roll his eyes. "Please, you're acting like children. Scott, what did I tell you?"

"That he's changed. Yeah, but it doesn't change what he did, and the fact that I don't like him."

Xavier sighed like it was a lost cause, and looked back at Creed. "Please continue."

Creed nodded. "Yeah. Stryker and I used to work together. I was screwed up back then, but that's not the point right now. The point is, I saw Stryker on the news, and I know he's going to try and create another weapon."

Scott looked up. "How do you know just by watching the news? The man isn't stupid, Victor. He wouldn't tell his plan to the world."

Creed looked at him. "Scott, I worked with him before. I know how he operates."

Jimmy sighed. "So ya came here to warn me? After hearin' what this guy did, there's no way I'm hidin', bub."

"I didn't say we'd hide, Jimmy. I'm sayin' we should destroy 'im."


	5. Chapter 5

_Whooa sorry for the wait guys! It's been a busy week!_

_Thank you to Scarlett Burns again for beta-ing, so awesome :D_

_And thanks for your wonderful reviews! Please enjoy!_

xxxxxxxxxx

Creed was not gunna lie, spending the rest of this short week at this school was like shoving your fist down a meat grinder. Okay, it wasn't that intense, but still, their was an awkwardness to the air and everyone seemed on edge.

He had a feeling (actually he was positive) that it was his presence that caused this.

Scott managed to stay a healthy ten feet away from him whenever they were in the same room; his hands twitching suspiciously towards his sunglasses, always having some form of a glare to shoot at his direction. Creed had to laugh though, because Scott's supposed 'cold shoulder' didn't affect him as much as Scott probably hoped it did. Creed has dealt with some cold shoulders in his life time, and nothing was worse than a Jimmy-fied cold shoulder.

Speaking of which, where was Jimmy? Creed had hardly seen any of his brother during his stay. Storm had explained that Jimmy was in the Danger Room, whatever the hell that is, for the majority of his free time or out on missions. His little brother's evasive antics were confusing Creed.

Ever since Creed and Jimmy were children, Jimmy was the one with questions and Creed was the one with answers. That was just how it was. Questions like: '_But why are we running away?' _or '_Why are we enlisting in the war?' _or said famously, '_Why are we killing?'_ The wave of nostalgia made Creed's stomach drop. All of that was gone. Erased. Creed had no idea how Jimmy managed to get his memory erased, but it felt like he'd lost his brother all over again.

Back when Creed told him that they were going to pretty much obliterate Stryker, that was it. Jimmy said no more. He simply looked at him like he was considering it, something else flickered in his face for a moment, then he just left. Nothing said, no questions asked. Questions that Creed honestly wouldn't mind listening to right now.

Despite Scott acting like he had a stick up his ass and Jimmy acting like Carmen Sandiego, Jean and Storm were pretty darned nice to him, always asking him if he needed anything, how he was liking New York… it was nice to have some people on your side

Heaving a sigh, Creed crawled out of the bed he was lying in. He was rather surprised when Xavier offered him a room and some new clothes; a luxury Creed hasn't been able to enjoy for a long time. Although it was a bit awkward trying to get used to the new mattress, he certainly wasn't going to complain; this beat his piece-of-crap bed any day.

The sun was flickering in through the windows, and he was briefly reminded of his days back in Oregon. Today he'd have to corner Jimmy somewhere and get him to agree to help him fight Stryker. After all, Jimmy had never given him a straight 'no'.

After throwing on some blue jeans and a loose white T-shirt, he left his room and headed to his favorite place in this school: the kitchen.

Although this school offered most of Creed's necessities: shower, food, clothes, shelter, and sweet, glorious cornbread muffins, there was one thing that was a constant thorn in his side: _the children._

They were _everywhere_! Big, small, some really small, some really big. Not only were there countless children here, they were children with _abilities. _The could do twice the damage. Horror. Pure, god-awful horror.

Walking down the hall, he wanted to get to the kitchen as fast as he could without running into a little runt. The last thing he wanted to do was make small talk with one. Walking into the kitchen, he made a bee-line towards the fridge. When he opened it, he was satisfied to find that it was full of a delicious varieties of food.

Grabbing the carton of chocolate milk and the bag of cornbread muffins someone had made, he carried his treasures to the counter. He snatched up chocolate milk, looked left and right, then chugged down straight from the carton.

"Y'know you should probably get a glass." A voice said out of nowhere. Creed choked on the milk, and it splattered everywhere. He looked up to see a teenager, maybe around fifteen or sixteen, walk in donning boxers and a baggy T-shirt. The boy's brown hair was all dishelved from sleep.

The teen reached up in the cupboard, grabbing a glass, and handing it to Creed. "One time Professor Munroe caught me doin' that. She made me buy like, eight more cartons. Kind of ridiculous, really."

"Who?"

"Oh… Storm, if that's how she introduced herself to you."

"Ah." Creed nodded his head, filling up the glass with chocolate milk. "Thanks for this, by the way."

"No problem. I'm Bobby. Bobby Drake." The teen extended his hand, and while Creed gripped it, it felt oddly cold.

"Victor Creed."

"So _you're_ the one making Professor Summers all… I think the best word is, crazy."

Creed snorted. "Crazy?"

"Yeah, " Bobby laughed. "He's muttering about how he should've done more damage to you, whatever that means."

Creed, not in the mood to reminisce about how his shoulder got blasted off, chuckled along. "Ah well, he'll come around."

"I hope so,' said Bobby.

The two remained in comfortable silence, which was odd because Creed didn't really warm up to strangers this fast. Bobby was currently eating cottage cheese right out of the tub, while Creed mercilessly devoured five cornbread muffins.

The whole mansion was quiet, aside from Creed's chomping and Bobby's chewing. It was only around 6 AM, so children were expected to wake soon, which made Creed internally wince. The silence, however, was disrupted. Well, maybe not for Bobby, but for Creed it was, because his hearing was twenty times better.

"I gotta run into town today on the bike," said Scott Summers, who was currently upstairs.

"What's wrong with the Honda?" asked a voice; sounded a lot like Jean.

"Ah, something is wrong with it! Engine won't start. I called the mechanic but he can't look at it until tomorrow."

"Well, you better hurry up before Logan steals the bike, you know how he is."

"I will. Actually I should go right now. I've got a lot of errands to run," Scott explained. There was some low mumbling, what sounded like a smooch, and then the footsteps of Scott walking down the hall.

Huh. The engine won't start. Not to be egotistical or anything, but Creed knew he'd probably be able to fix that Honda pretty damn quick.

Scott's loud footsteps echoed throughout the quiet mansion as he descended from the stairs and, like Creed, made a beeline into the kitchen. Upon entering, he was unaware of Creed, but noticed Bobby.

"What're you doin' up so early?" Scott asked as he opened the fridge.

"I fell asleep pretty early last night," Bobby explained as he popped the lid back onto the cottage cheese.

"I see… hey, where are all those cornbread muffins?" Scott asked as he rummaged through the fridge. Creed choked on the one he was currently chewing (which just happened to be the last one), quickly swallowed it and shoved the empty bag into his pocket. Scott glanced up, finally seeing Creed, and visibly stiffened.

The awkward silence in the air was so thick that Creed could've gagged on it. Scott's gaze quickly transformed into a glare. "I'm not hungry anymore," he announced, and quickly exited the kitchen.

Creed sighed, knowing that he'd have to earn Scott's trust somehow. _Maybe if I fix his stupid car or something._

"You're a mechanic?" asked Jean as she entered the kitchen. Bobby glanced up in confusion, while Creed's eyebrows furrowed.

"So you _are_ a telepath."

"Yes," she said with a warm smile. "It'd be great if you could fix the Honda for us. I don't like the mechanic in town, he's kind of… overpriced."

Creed nodded in understanding. It was the least he could do, for how hospitable Jean was being, and it might make Scott a little less uptight. Jean smiled.

"Thank you so much. I really appreciate it," Jean said.

Creed smiled. "No problem."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Creed had been in the auto mechanic business for at least ten years. He likes fixing cars; it's something he's good at. Although to clarify, he likes fixing cars _alone._ Not with five kids, ranging from ten to eleven years old, watching him intently. The sad part was, they didn't look bored or intimidated at all. They actually looked happy, and weren't afraid to get close to Creed.

Now, Creed knew he'd gone to the good side, but still… it ruins a tough guy's ego when a little girl is offering him fruit roll-ups and asking him what his favorite Hannah Montana episode is. How Jimmy could tolerate this, he may never know.

When Jimmy entered his thoughts, his stomach dropped again. He'd have to get Jimmy to agree to fight Stryker. God knows what kind of havoc Stryker is planning on doing. Despite the fact Creed literally went across the country to find him, it was like he hasn't even found him yet. If he left soon, maybe he could catch him before he went on a mission or into the Danger Room.

"So what's that big thing right here?" a little boy asked, tearing Creed out of his depressing thoughts.

"The engine," Victor deadpanned.

The boy nodded, and pointed a chubby finger towards a nozzle sticking out. "And that?" Creed's eye twitched.

"The oil tank," he ground out. Two of the boys walked right up to the car to get a closer look. Creed, on the verge of spontaneously combusting, decided that if he wanted to get this job done any faster, these kids would have to freakin' leave. Trying to put on the scariest face he could muster, he barred his fangs. The effect he had on them could probably be compared to the effect of a teddy bear being shown to a little kid. The little girl giggled.

"You look like my dog when you do that," she said, still giggling.

Creed smacked his face in defeat, grabbed a screwdriver, and decided that it'd be best if he ignored them., which he quickly figured out was an impossible task, because then all five of them circled around the front of the car, right next to Creed, and watched intently, like this was some importantly lesson they _had_ to know. The oldest mutant groaned, and continued on with his work.

This went on for twenty minutes, with the kids asking random questions that had absolutely no relevance to cars. Like, what his favorite color was, how old was he, why he had failed to clip his nails, and was he part cat? The scary part was, Creed was answering them which much less annoyance than he originally felt.

This actually terrified him.

"What're you kids doin' in here?" asked a familiar, gruff voice. All six heads turned to see Jimmy standing there, his arms folded across his chest with a look of amusement on his face.

"Hiya Logan! Mister Creed was showing us how to fix a car," the chubby boy answered. Creed grimaced, because he seriously had unintentionally showed them how. _Crazy, manipulative kids,_ he thought bitterly.

Jimmy snorted at the look on Creed's face. "Well, it's lunch time now. Jean has sandwich makin's in the kitchen," he explained.

All five kids grinned, and in unison shouted, "Thank you, Mister Creed!" The little girl ran and hugged Creed around the waist, which shattered his dignity right there. All of them filed out while Jimmy's once friendly face was now one of seriousness.

"Hey uh… I need to talk to ya," Jimmy said, looking rather vulnerable. Creed, silently thanking the Gods, nodded his head, indicating to Jimmy to continue.

"When ya told me you were my brother, I thought you were full of shit. Especially when ya told me we were gunna fight this 'Stryker'. I thought you were just confused or somethin'. But when I fell asleep that night… I had this weird dream. I was in this green-tinged room… and for some reason I was in a tank. I remember jumpin' out and tryin' to escape.. and I heard someone shout, 'Stryker!'," Jimmy explained, and carefully watched Creed's expression. Seeing as it hadn't changed, he continued on.

"When I woke up I thought it was just some dream, but after a while I got to thinkin'. Maybe it wasn't a dream…it just seemed too real. When I realized it was a memory, I tried to remember more. I've been in the Danger Room, it helps me concentrate. Anyways, I had another memory…real blurry in my mind…but I just remember feelin' so betrayed by Stryker, and anger I haven't felt in a long time," Jimmy continued, examining his knuckles.

"So I wanted to say, I have a feelin' he did somethin' bad, and I think you're right; he's gunna do somethin' again. So I'm takin' ya up on your offer, we should destroy 'im," Jimmy finished.

Creed could've exploded with joy. "Really?" Creed asked, setting down the screwdriver and twisting the oil cap back on.

"Yeah," Jimmy half-smiled. Creed felt like this was the closest thing to his brother he'd seen in a _long_ time.

Jimmy, obviously wanting to get rid of the silence, said, "So when are we gunna kill this bastard?"

"Well, we can ask Professor Xavier to find him for us, and then we'll have to do some planning, but I'd say pretty soon," Creed explained as he closed the hood of Scott's car, finished. Jimmy nodded, glancing at Creed's now healed shoulder, then to the blue Honda Civic.

"There's no way in Hell Scott asked you to fix his car," Jimmy snorted.

Creed grinned, light glinting off of his fangs. "He didn't, Jean asked me." Something flashed in Jimmy's face, which looked an awful lot like jealousy, but his expression quickly sobered up. _Something must be going on between them,_ Creed thought.

Not wanting his brother to harbor any ill-will towards him, he quickly said, "Uh, well, it was the least I could do, and uh… y'know, I didn't want Scott to shoot off my other shoulder. This may cool him down a bit." Jimmy seemed pleased with this.

"It might. C'mon, let's go ask Chuck where this rat-bastard is," Jimmy said, turning to leave. Creed tossed the screwdriver back into the toolbox next to him and followed.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"I'm afraid I can't tell you where he is," Xavier said as he closed the book he was currently reading: _The Once and Future King._

"Why not?" Jimmy asked with a little too much aggressiveness.

"Logan, I don't think you understand… nor do you, Victor. Stryker hasn't done anything for years, and the public sees him as a hero. They don't really know his true intentions. You know how everyone sees mutants these days; if we kill a public figure, they'll take it personally. They'll think what we want a war… and they'll give us one if we ask," Xavier explained, looking at both of them.

Creed gave a noise of disagreement while Jimmy folded his arms across his chest. Xavier gave an exasperated sigh.

"I suggest you wait for him to make the first move. If he does anything drastic, I'll look for him for you both."

Creed was okay with that, because that was how America usually operated when it came to wars. He was used to it, but Jimmy, thanks to memory-loss, was not.

"So you're just gunna let him kill innocent mutants while we sit around and wait?" Jimmy snapped. Creed groaned, wishing Jimmy could just accept things, but then again, that was how Jimmy always was.

"Logan, we'll lose a lot more mutants if there is a war. It's all about patience," Xavier explained, opening his book again, obviously showing that there was no room for argument.

Jimmy growled loudly before turning on his heel and walking out. Creed shook his head.

"Sorry 'bout that, Professor."

"It's quite alright, Victor. I'm just glad to see that you two are on speaking terms. Although, I do have a question… does he know about your past with Stryker?" Xavier asked, looking up with curiosity.

Creed glanced down shamefully. "Considerin' how he reacted to barely remembering Stryker, I think it's best if I keep my past a secret."

"You'll have to tell him sooner or later," Xavier said with a knowing tone.

"I know," Creed sighed. "I know."


End file.
